


Pajamas

by yeaka



Category: Sakigake!! Cromartie Koukou | Cromartie High School
Genre: Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snippet of sex at Hokuto’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pajamas

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Cromartie High School or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

You’re getting close now, undeniably so, but he drives you to those heights so quickly and always keeps you there, where you just don’t think you can last much longer, but _God_ , you _want to_. You don’t have any choice, and he drives his strong hips into you again and again, sheathing himself inside your tight channel like his cock is meant to be there. Maybe it is. You squeeze around him and try not to let him go, but he slips away only to slam up again; you bounce in his lap, holding on tight. 

You’re draped around his shoulders and panting in his ear when he stops, fingers tight in your sides. You grunt in dismay and grind your bodies together, but he doesn’t groan with you. You do it again and make a frustrated noise, trying to rock your hips into his, but he slips his long fingers under your ass and hauls you off; his cock pops out and slips away. 

You’re left wet from lube and gaping open and _desperately_ wanting more, but he doesn’t seem to notice. You sit back in his lap, rear bare against the silk of his pajama pants, scrunched down around his hard cock, and you pull your head back to look at him. His expression’s distant, far off, and frowning. 

You mutter, “Boss?” Because you like calling him that in the bedroom, and you’re in his bedroom now. You sleep at his place more than your own, and why wouldn’t you? There are no servants to bring you breakfast where you live. Hokuto shakes his head and leans back against the headboard. 

“Am I important?” He looks at you when he says it, which is odd in itself; these are usually the sort of questions he asks in general and not really _to you._

You snap, “Of course,” feeling vaguely annoyed—he stopped for that? What a stupid reason. You’re both still hard, and you buck into his crotch suddenly, trying to remind him what you’re supposed to be doing—the matching pajama top of his that you’re wearing rubs against his bare chest, and he shoves you back, scowling. 

“I mean it—I’ve just been thinking—”

“What’re you thinking in the middle of sex for?”

“None of those idiots ever listen to me!” Hokuto throws his hands up with his sudden rage, looking utterly exasperated—sometimes you swear he’s got ADD. But then, the whole damn school does. You know instantly who he’s talking about. “I’m supposed to be the leader, but they just listen to Kamiyama and forget me all the time!”

“No, they don’t.” Well, they sort of do. But you’re not going to say that. Your arms have disentangled from his neck, so just your hands are on his shoulders, broad and bare with a dark cascade of long hair falling over them, mingling with your fingers. You give him a reassuring squeeze and insist, “You’re _very_ important. More so than any of them.” But he doesn’t look convinced and shakes his head again. His hands are still on your hips, and his fingers start to twitch nervously in the fabric of his own shirt, creating wrinkles. Sharing clothes like this is a novelty, one you don’t want to waste; time spent in Hokuto’s wardrobe is something to savour. You switch to another tactic, trying, “You’re the center of my whole world; I’ll follow you anywhere. You know that. None of _them_ has a lackey. Not even Kamiyama.” 

“Hayashida might as well be,” Hokuto sullenly points out. 

It’s your turn to shake your head. “I’ve never seen Hayashida wearing Kamiyama’s clothes or sneaking off to the bathroom with him. Do you _really_ think either of them gets laid half so much as you do?”

Here, he finally brightens, daring a little smirk. “Well, no, I suppose not.” His deep voice is much more alluring when it’s pleased, and you rock your hips into him to demonstrate, drawing out your own moan. He smacks your hip lightly like goading a horse and chuckles, “They’re probably all virgins.”

“But not you.” Stoking his massive ego, your purr, “You have sex all the time, and can have it any time you want, any where you want, any way you want.” You lean to dig a lingering kiss into his cheek and groan against his skin, “If you’re not important, then why am I so _hard_ and _desperate_ for you? I’d do _anything_ for you, Hokuto, anything to make you happy, to get your cock inside me...” You run your hand down his chest as you talk, admiring all his firm muscles, and you find his proud cock and stroke it while you nip at his jaw line, begging for his tongue. He finally turns to kiss you, and one hand shoots out to grab your hair almost painfully, shoving you in. The kiss you share is messy and hot, and you lean into it, practically humping him like the mindlessly dog he turns you into. He pets your ass and chews your bottom lip, and finally, _finally_ he grabs your hips again, lifting you up. 

You reach down to help hold him in place, and you settle back down onto his cock, dropping your full weight onto it the moment he lets you. You’re close to the edge again in seconds, and he kindly resumes fucking you wild, hard enough to throw you backwards into the mattress. He climbs atop you, biting at your face and neck and running his hands down your body. You wrap your legs around him, burry your hands in his hair, and when he pounds into you next, you _scream_ his name in a way you’re sure he’ll _never_ be able to forget, because _he really is your whole world._


End file.
